


Stix and Stones

by ficanicbasket



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dear god what have I done, Drabble, Failwolf, Fluff, M/M, Sugar, Valentine's Day, Why do I occasionally try to write things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficanicbasket/pseuds/ficanicbasket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a sweet surprise taped to his locker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stix and Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swing_set13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/gifts).



> For Ms. swing_set13, because she complained on Tumblr that there wasn't enough Valentine's Day Sterek fic around. I wrote this in a haze of Benadryl and slipped it into her fanmail, so it might be only slightly comprehensible. I TRIED BECAUSE I LIKE YOU A LOT OKAY.  
> Rated T for language.

Stiles can’t believe what’s taped to his locker — on Valentine’s Day! There’s a plethora of Pixy Stix, arranged like a bouquet in the usual plastic cone for flower bouquets, taped to the locker with a big X of clear packing tape.

He begins to cackle (“Ah ha. Ah ha ha ha. _AHAHHAHAHAHA_.”) when Scott finally breaks away from attempting to turn his head like an owl and watch Allison and contorts his face into something resembling his father’s horrified reaction to Brussel sprouts. Sadly for Stiles, Scott’s werewolf speed allows him to rip the bouquet from the door and race down the hall before Stiles can catch his breath from the cackling.

Whoever left the bouquet either doesn’t know Stiles that well — Stiles + pure sugar = fucking terrifying, even to Stiles — or really knows Stiles and his addictions. Stiles seriously contemplates licking the bits of sugar clinging to the door, where some of the Stix had ripped and spilled during Scott’s emergency action. Unfortunately, wolfy nose-wrinkling and murmurs about the horrors of the smells of the locker room come to mind, and the external surface of his locker can’t be any better. Still, the fact that someone left him a gift gives him a bit of pep in his step.

***

Paying attention to Harris is even more of a challenge than usual, with the thoughts of his mystery Valentine swirling in his head. The atomic weight of hydrogen is not, in fact, “sweet”, nor is Avogadro’s number a dreamy-sighed “cheeeeeeeeeeseburger… and curly fries”. Finally, the bell rings, signaling the end of even attempting to pay attention, freeing Stiles to get the hell out of school for the day. He goes to his locker, slightly disappointed to still not see a note indicating the superhero’s identity.

What does come fluttering out of Stiles’s locker when he opens it, though, is a crumpled receipt, obviously shoved under the door, bearing rushed, terrible handwriting reading in blue ballpoint pen:

“Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
 ~~I think I might~~  
 **DATE ME** ”

The “I think I might” has been aggressively crossed out to the point of ripping the paper, with “DATE ME” written in large, blocky letters. It’s not everyday your admirer is giving you orders (at least, Stiles assumes it’s the same as earlier, although the thought of TWO secret admirers is the same day is only slightly more mind-blowing than the thought of one persistent one). Stiles doesn’t recognize the emphatic handwriting and flips over the receipt, hoping for more clues, still perplexed and excited (his heart doesn’t even know what to do right now).

A gas station near the middle of town — that’s no help. Twenty-four Pixy Sticks — same one, hooray! Annnnnnnnd eighteen gallons of super premium gas. Only one person he knows would a) wait until their gas tank must be really, really almost empty because gas stations mean people and b) have to buy super-premium gas for a fancy-schmancy car.

The extremely bossy handwriting also gives it away.

Stiles wonders if he can lead into this conversation with “Scott stole the Pixy Stix, so I think you should give me a different type of sugar, baby.”


End file.
